


The Heat Death of the Universe

by embaasan



Category: Notice Me Senpai! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mystery, Robot AU, Romance, sfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-04 18:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10286141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embaasan/pseuds/embaasan
Summary: Seiichi is a robot - the very first of his kind. Devised and built in secret, he is no more than a mechanical slave whose existence hinges around the student council that he serves.  At the very bottom of the hierarchy, belittled and ignored, Seiichi waits each night for the return of his master, the student council president, Touru, to give him his daily briefing as he walks the halls, wondering what life would be like for him if he had been born as flesh and blood.Because Seiichi canfeeland he is learning more and more each day. When Touru-kaichou discovers this, it alters the dynamic of their relationship forever. But with the shadow of a missing student hanging over the academy, the students are fearful and dubious. Nothing is quite as it seems, and Seiichi is beginning to learn that the human mind is a chaotic and messy thing that cannot easily be understood.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a reminder that you are all beautiful, wonderful human beings with great taste in apps! **But if you are affected by depictions of bullying or verbal/physical abuse, please do not read any further.**

Seiichi’s birth was one without conception: a loveless marriage between man and metal, resulting in a miracle that could be traced back to worn blueprints in the corner of the robotics club’s noisy laboratory. His baby steps were calculated and steady as his body unhinged itself, ploughing forward just as it had been programmed to do. His first words were taken from a database containing twenty megabytes of vocabulary and readily prepared phrases. Too logical for correct grammar usage, he approached the irregularities of language as unsteadily as a child at first, but became adept as time passed. His distant cousins ticked and tocked; his ancestors were propelled by steam. In short, he was a robot, an android, a mechanical slave - the very first of his kind, built in secret by the elite students of Ikemen Academy.

Seiichi awoke fully formed in a body as cold as ice. He didn’t realize it at first but the sensors in his palms were screaming out in indignation and coated in a thin layer of condensation. They sent waves of information up to the steel cage of his skull, where the little box that encompassed his brain was kept, and revealed the precise temperature to him. Although his bodily comprehension of the night’s bitterness was lacking, the evidence was there in place. The school must be closed and the central heating systems had been turned off. Eight young men, ranging from the approximate ages of fifteen to eighteen were gathered around him wearing an assortment mittens, scarves, gloves, beanie hats and bulky winter coats just to keep warm.  

"Hey, the blinking was a great idea," one commented, nudging another. "It looks so natural!"

"Well of course," the boy responded with a diffident eye roll, "we'd just freak people out more if we didn't give it __eyelids__."

Through the detachable eye-piece that slotted behind the helix of his left ear, Seiichi could see a digital clock idling towards midnight as the boys talked between themselves. The one that was seated closest to Seiichi was silent, perched on a backwards-facing swivel chair and peering critically through lowered glasses. A steady stream of vapor poured from his mouth as he exhaled and a small wrench dangled from his left hand.

“What do you think, kaichou?” he finally asked, seeming satisfied and placing the wrench on the circular-shaped table behind him.

There was a boy stood separate from the rest, leaning against the back wall wearing a nonchalant expression. The room fell silent as everyone anxiously turned to face him with bated breath. He stood at approximately five feet eleven inches tall with serious eyes hidden beneath square-shaped glasses and, like the rest, was dressed for the cold climate of the empty school with a navy blue pea coat, complete with gold buttons. He shifted his legs, clad in skinny black jeans and eyed Seiichi from afar. Around his neck was a loosely tied burgundy scarf and his short, dark hair was neatly cut into a practical style.

“It certainly looks the part,” he said elusively, “but what can it __do__?”

The swivel chair creaked as the boy turned himself around to address the question. “Think of it as a humanoid computer, if you will,” he said, resting his elbows on the table and resting his chin atop locked fingers. “It’s called __Seiichi -__ using the kanji for ‘government’ and the number ‘one’ - and will be the first in a line of androids working intimately with governments across the globe - or so we hope. It can perform any physical task that an ordinary human being can, but what sets it apart is it’s mental capability. Here, let me show you an example. Seiichi, what’s 357 x 89?”

"31,773," the robot responded almost immediately.

"Correct," the speaker said with a smile of satisfaction. He had picked up a calculator and was almost done inputting the numbers himself when Seiichi had responded.

"So it can do maths. That’s somewhat helpful. What else?" 

“Well, that’s just the beginning. As I mentioned before, Seiichi is a beta model for the androids that will appear next to world leaders over the course of the next few decades - assuming our little project is a success - and is fit for purpose. Seiichi will automatically log all information that is imparted to it and is able to perform manual searches in order to access this information at a later date - kind of like a photographic memory. It will transcribe every student council meeting automatically as long as it is present and keep track of all expenses. It can also perform searches online: as long as the information is there, Seiichi will be able to access it in mere seconds - bus timetables, legal information, restaurant recommendations, directions… It will save the student council time that is better spent elsewhere by dealing with student inquiries for you. In the early stages of development, Seiichi was also able to write simple speeches by running several searches for jargon and transcriptions which it then used as a model. There were a few grammatical errors but these will most likely be ironed out with human contact. It can also predict the outcomes of scenarios when given a series of variables, send emails and, most importantly, collect your coffee from the third year café. In essence, Seiichi will be a figurative member of the student council whose entire existence revolves around it. So what do you say, kaichou? Will you be our beta tester?”

The boy with the glasses processed all this information silently and then began walking towards Seiichi. When the heels of his shoes hit the floorboards, the noise reverberated around the room balefully, overpowering the dreadful silence that had fallen. With austere, probing eyes, he circled the silent android, who peered back up at him from beneath prosthetic eyelids. Seiichi was quietly running through the database of students that he had been implemented with in search for a face that matched the one before him when their eyes met. The kaichou stopped moving, and sighed deeply.

“I suppose it’s going to make my life easier,” the boy surrendered, placing one hand on his hip. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“I have the manual!” one perky, mitten-clad individual called, waving a binder at the other side of the room. He was clutching a pale yellow plush rabbit in his free hand. “I’ll leave it here for everyone to read through at the meeting tomorrow.”

“It’s battery life is about sixteen hours; it’ll automatically power down and recharge at night. If there are any issues then Yuu is the best person to contact, but if he can’t iron them out himself, just bring it to the club-room and I’ll see what I can do. Thanks for agreeing kaichou. Our future in robotics will be determined by this project and we wanted to capture Seiichi in in the space it was built for.”

The boy in the square-shaped glasses nodded, his perturbed eyes still locked on Seiichi who refused to falter beneath his stern gaze.

“Come to me at 8:30 tomorrow morning for a briefing,” he said calmly. “My name is Touru and I am the student council president of this school. From this day forward, you work for me.”

* * *

Seiichi’s existence was a closely guarded secret. Although most students and faculty members were aware of his true nature, he was, under no circumstances, allowed to exit the school through its towering gates, nor was he allowed to speak with anyone who could not be found in the student database. The looming threat of reporters or industry insiders dogged him as he watched the flood of arriving students each morning. He did not share in the robotics club’s ardent fears of leaked blueprints or being second in the race to market, but his faith in them was unwavering and he was prepared to obey any command.

By night, he roamed the academy’s grand halls like a phantom, retracing decades worth of steps taken by generations of students. Celebrated artists hung their paintings on the walls and as Seiichi approached the end of each corridor, water-paints and oil shifted into vibrant pieces of digital art. Trophies stood triumphantly in glass cases at the entrance, positioned next to framed photos, in sepia and beyond, of young men holding them up in victory. The history of the school, woven by the prodigal sons of its hallowed halls, stretched out behind him and half-awed, half-daunted, Seiichi could only amass the information, scour the internet for information regarding each individual and hypothesize what life would be like for him had he been dealt a different hand.

During these hours, he had one job: to power-down and recharge so that he was prepared for the return of the student council president.

Touru-kaichou was hypercritical of Seiichi and for the first few weeks only allowed him to listen in on student council meetings and collect coffee at the third year café. Any offers of assistance fell on deaf ears as Touru remained dubious, casting sidelong glances and muttering insults while continuing to perform the most tedious tasks himself. Other members of the council were openly disdainful too and the kaichou would watch on in silence as they poked or prodded at Seiichi sat motionless in his seat, lacking pressure receptors but being aware of the childlike teasing he was subject to all the same. Like a simpleton, he was forced to repeat every drink order once it was given to him, but he never missed a beat and always got it right the first time. When Touru wrote his weekly report on Seiichi’s progress, he begrudgingly noted that Seiichi had proven himself far more reliable than any other member of the student council in terms of the daily coffee run.

 _ _If you wanted a tea serving robot, I could have just given you Hinata-kun,__ was the response that Seiichi was to read out when it arrived via his eye piece.

And so the days passed idly as Seiichi marched back and forth from the café to the student council meeting room, where the students were perpetually locked in debates about fund-raising, school reform or student concerns. As they tore another sheet off the calendar, welcoming in another month, Seiichi remained at the bottom rung of the hierarchy, making calculations or assessments for his own records rather than to benefit the council. Every time he spoke, his words were rewarded with a cautionary glare from the kaichou.

He was beginning to learn; he saw patterns and made adjustments. The world wasn’t always fair and superior intelligence was not automatically rewarded. The plural for tooth was teeth. People were emotional and territorial. The media was unreliable.

One day, while passing through the third floor corridor on his way to the café, Seiichi heard a violent thwack and turned the corner to see a pair of students locked in what appeared to be a very one-sided brawl. Others had gathered to watch, jeering, as Seiichi opened up the video recording software and began to capture the fight. He could feel his eyeballs vibrating as his pupils transformed into camera lenses. Initially his intention had been to assist the faculty members by providing evidence of the fight, but as he zoomed in, he found himself enthralled by the boy on the receiving end of the blows. Upon impact, his facial muscles adjusted themselves, contorting in pain, and it was this particular instance that Seiichi replayed again and again that evening as he stood in the changing rooms in front of a full-length mirror. He moved his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut and furrowed his synthetic brows trying to emulate the expression. His school uniform lay sodden in the washing machine as the hours passed, and Seiichi still stood there, perfecting the emotion.

The next morning, Seiichi awoke in the student council meeting room to discover that Touru had already arrived. He was absentmindedly flicking through the manual that Yuu had supplied, tapping his fingers against the round table, when he suddenly realized that the android was awake and watching him with clear eyes from across the room.

“I’m very impressed,” he said calmly, closing the manual and standing. “Your ability to comprehend conflict and react accordingly is nothing short of miraculous. The robotics club are truly revolutionary.”

It soon transpired that one of the teachers had cornered Touru as he arrived at school that morning to discuss Seiichi’s progress. They had all been faintly surprised to see the android arrive at the faculty room the afternoon prior to relinquish a copy of the video recording. Incapable of gloating, Seiichi gave monotonous, curt responses to the kaichou’s probing questions, not realizing that, somewhere down the line, he was being praised rather than admonished.

“You really are a sophisticated computer,” Touru murmured finally.

He reached out and gently took Seiichi by the chin, tilting his face upwards and peering intently into his eyes. Wordlessly, he searched for the complex hardware that was hidden somewhere behind the robot’s glassy-eyed stare and Seiichi could do nothing but tolerate it. They remained that way for over a minute, their faces only centimeters apart. The ceiling tiles were slotted together neatly above and Seiichi began to trace the lines between them with his eyes as the seconds ticked by until finally, Touru let go, distancing himself.

“I don’t understand how you work,” the kaichou said quietly in defeat, “but I want you to manage the expenses of each club from now on. I’ll ensure that all invoices are sent to you and as soon as a club approaches their limit, I need you to tell me immediately.”

He turned around and walked off towards the filing cabinet, continuing to talk as he unearthed a folder from the top drawer.

“This is an extremely important job,” Touru warned, extending his index finger condescendingly. “If something goes wrong, it will fall back on me.”

“I am capable,” Seiichi replied flatly.

That morning, Seiichi began crunching numbers as ordered. While his peers in the student council were sat at their desks, passing notes and ignoring their droning teachers, Seiichi was creating a vast spreadsheet using the documents that Touru had surrendered. He began paying off overdue invoices online and by lunchtime had hit a wall. Everything was up-to-date. It was almost frustratingly easy but now he had something to keep him occupied during the long nights. Aimlessly, he stepped out of the student council room and scoped the floor for Touru, before finding himself at the third year café. He wasn’t there, but Seiichi took a seat anyway.

Seiichi couldn’t drink fluids, but the girl who ran the café - a perky first-year who just so happened to be the first female student at the school - always sat with him when it was quiet. He still made minor errors from time to time while speaking - sometimes the words arranged themselves in the wrong tense or the wrong order, but unlike the members of the student council, she always corrected him and was extremely patient. Although he had no experiences to share with her and no common ground, he began to feel strangely elevated whenever she was nearby, like the wires in his brain were surging. He chalked it down to stimulated hardware, but it was difficult to deny the fact that the feeling was something akin to warmth.

Once she was done serving at the counter, she used what was left of the milk she had frothed to make a cappuccino and headed over to him. The café was quiet, as most students were studying for finals, and they struck up a conversation. They swapped stories, while she dashed to and from the counter, dishing out gooey hot chocolate fudge cake and spiced teas as the boys came in from the cold, shaking off their gloves and unraveling their scarves.

“Sorry!” she’d call every time, waving apologetically.

Seiichi would always practice smiling here, turning up the corners of his mouth. He had seen her do it so many times, except the blood would rush to her cheeks and her eyes would sparkle, no matter who came in or how inconvenient the timing was. She had giggled the first time he had tried to smile back at her. He knew he looked awkward, but it was what people did and he was beginning to want to blend into the school ceaselessly as if he had been there all along.

“Hey, what do you do at night?” she asked him, absentmindedly stirring the froth of her cappuccino into little peaks when she returned once again.

“My primary objective is to power down,” he told her, “although I sometimes enjoy reading about students who previously attended the academy.”

She paused for a moment, dropping the teaspoon into her cup and leaning forward. “Like the missing student?” she asked in a clear whisper, glancing quickly over her shoulder to see if anyone was listening in.

“No,” he responded, confused. “Can you define ‘ _ _missing student__ ’ for me?”

“I don’t know much about it myself,” she confessed, looking disappointed, “but there was a boy who disappeared just after graduating. He was meant to be going to college overseas, but he never made his flight and his parents never heard from him after that.”

Seiichi was already using his eye piece to gather information to placate her curiosity. He located several sensationalist articles from the media, including an image of the boy, dressed in the academy’s red and brown uniform, but apart from a few lurid remarks, he had nothing noteworthy to recount to her.

“Hey,” she said brightly, “you should investigate! I’ll help!”

“Investigate?” he repeated.

“Yeah, you’re really smart, right? Maybe you’ll find something that the police couldn’t. It’s been almost a year and I guess all the evidence is in police custody, but you might catch a trail that they missed. It’ll be a cold case before long; the boy’s parents have pretty much given up hope. They think he crumbled under the pressure and went into hiding because he couldn’t take it any more.”

“I don’t understand,” Seiichi mumbled, “what pressure? He was a normal student, right?”

She leaned across the table once again conspiratorially, with raised eyebrows. “He was the student council president last year. Can you imagine? Revising to get into a prestigious university overseas, working part time to save for it __and__  leading the school, all at the same time? Well,” she paused suddenly, “I suppose you can. You work for the student council. You witness students under that kind of pressure everyday.”

She began humming to herself thoughtfully as she leaned back in her chair, sucking the froth off the teaspoon.

Suddenly he door of the café creaked open and a gaggle of students entered, talking cheerfully between themselves. If she apologised to him as she slipped off her seat to meet them at the counter, Seiichi did not hear it. He thought of Touru-kaichou, his dour-faced master, who only that morning had relinquished such a huge job to him. He was part of the fencing club and one of the top students in the school with limitless prospects as well as being the most active member of the student council. Seiichi looked up and caught his reflection in the window; he was as cold deep down as the sheets of metal that encompassed his skin and sucked the warmth out of everything he touched but somehow, he was troubled.

 _ _Is this what I was made for__? he wondered to himself. __To prevent things like this from happening again?__

* * *

He continued to visit the girl whenever he had a moment to spare and found that he was slowly but surely mastering the production of language. With each day, he was adjusting his grammar ever so slightly, adding colloquialisms to his vocabulary and understanding the concepts of politeness and power. The differences between men’s and women’s language became apparent to him, and he found it strange that he was programmed to speak as the former when he was so emphatically neither, or at least, designed to sit snugly somewhere in between. Being human seemed to come with a rule-book, fashioned to benefit only a select few, and Seiichi was becoming more critical of the society he had been designed to serve as the days passed.

One afternoon, as the student council was preparing to meet, Seiichi entered the third year café at the usual time and relayed the usual order to the girl. She was perched on a bar stool by the counter, listening intently as he reeled off the complex list, but contrary to normal proceedings, did not budge.

"Have you been investigating?" she asked him eagerly when he was done.

Seiichi blinked. The truth was, he had not. He found it far more productive to track the students whose lives could be traced like footsteps in snow across the internet, through media outlets, blogs and social media. He was not a fan of dead ends and unanswered questions. He preferred things that were concrete, logical and simple. Wearily, he shook his head - a gesture he had learned while studying individual members of the student council to denote a negative.

Enthusiastically, she recounted everything she had encountered online since they had last discussed the missing student, referring back to articles that Seiichi had already skim-read, while the minutes ticked by. Almost ten had passed before she began making the coffees, and even then she continued to discuss the matter at intervals, asking him to repeat orders, which he did, numbly and monotonously.

"You're really smart," she told him once again, beaming as she passed him the tray of drinks. "I think you could solve this mystery!"

Hastily, Seiichi made his way towards the student council room, watching the digital clock in his eye piece. He was always punctual when it came to the meetings, or anything for that matter. Immortal, in theory, Seiichi had time in spades and sometimes sat in the meeting room for hours before it even took place.

Touru's eyes were blazing when he entered. Yuu was stood huddled in the corner, clutching the pale yellow plush rabbit to his mouth. He was a member of the robotics club and one of Seiichi’s many fathers, as well as a class representative, and his relief at seeing Seiichi arrive was palpable. Touru glowered as he turned to face Seiichi; his cheeks were flushed with rage.

"Where have you been?" he roared. “Can’t you see that our time is precious?”

Suddenly, the manual that the robotics club had assembled came cart-wheeling through the air, hitting Seiichi in the jaw. His face was a perfect imitation of the pain he had witnessed out in the corridor and practiced for hours in the changing room. He hadn't even realized he had done it. Far from physically injured, Seiichi felt wounded by the president's violent display of anger. He was so distressed by it that he couldn't comprehend that this was pure, unadulterated human emotion soaring through the vein-like wires that enabled him to be.

Touru's eyes were wide when Seiichi turned to apologize.

"It doesn't matter," he said quickly, "just sit down."

The rest of the students giggled as Seiichi mechanically obeyed. Even Yuu chuckled as he warily made his way to his seat. He dropped the unharmed tray of drinks on to the table in wonted silence and refused to speak for the remainder of the meeting unless he was directly spoken to himself.

As the other members of the student council filed out, chirping their goodbyes to each other upon its conclusion, Seiichi remained catatonic. He had expected everyone to leave without acknowledging him, as always, but a single presence remained in the room. Seiichi could see the shadow dawdling by the door as the sun descended.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Touru asked him quietly.

Seiichi was unresponsive.

"Speak to me," the president demanded. "Can you... can you feel? Are you capable of emotion? Your face changed. It was like you were… a person."

Touru's voice was desperate and hushed. He sat down on the chair adjacent to Seiichi and with trembling fingers, turned the android's head towards his so that they were looking each other in the eye. Anguish permeated the president's ordinarily stoic features.

"I can feel," Seiichi quietly affirmed.

The other boy let out a single, stunted breath, somewhere between a grunt and a gasp.

"Seiichi... I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I thought you were just a computer... I always hit my consoles when they don't work, ever since I was kid and- oh god, Seiichi, I had no idea."

Remorsefully, Touru dropped his head into his hands.

"If it is any consolation, kaichou," Seiichi began, "I am able to feel but am unable to convey emotion as humans would. I have been watching the students of the academy. When they feel joy or sadness, they alter the shape of the mouth. It is strange to me, and it defies my understanding of what I am, but I believe I am programmed to feel these emotions also."

The kaichou raised his head and peered glumly at Seiichi.

"I have been referring to you as 'it'," he stated dismally.

“I am an object in the possession of the student council. I am your slave and you are my master. It is only natural to refer to me as you deem fit.”

Decisively, Touru stood. “Well I’m going to stop now,” he said firmly. “From now on I’m going to treat you like a person.”

He extended his hand to Seiichi who glanced up at it, baffled.

“A handshake,” Touru said, “is a custom that restores the balance between two individuals. It is a sign of equality or respect. You take my hand, we shake, and then we part. It’s how things are done.”

Timidly, Seiichi met Touru’s hand which remained staunch as it hung in the air. It seemed like a meaningless ritual to him, but to the kaichou, it appeared to mean everything. He smiled warmly as they touched.

“I’m going to start again, okay?” he said, grasping the cold hand tightly in his. “My name is Touru and I am the student council president of this school. From this day forward, we’ll be working together. Let’s do our best.”

* * *

That night, Seiichi dreamt for the first time.

He was running through a lush, verdant forest with adrenaline coursing through his veins. A tepid spring rain was peppering his skin and his chest rose and fell with each haggard breath that he took. It was incredibly strange, but he felt everything - even when he hurtled through a thorny bush and grazed his leg. Blood pulsated from the wound, vibrant in colour and soaking his trousers. He languished being in a flesh and blood body, even for one night and assessed the injury with fluctuating pride and fear.

Voices in the distance. He ignored them, touching everything, from the rough bark of the trees to the smooth, weathered stones in his path as he continued running.

When he awoke that morning, he remembered it all vividly. First emotions, and now he was experiencing something akin to REM sleep, which was followed by, even more bizarrely, a delusion that he was somehow gradually becoming human. Seiichi closed his eyes once again, as the sun cast dull rays in through the windows of the student council meeting room. It was dangerous to believe such things, especially when he defied all logic, but it made him feel at ease. He couldn't understand his emotions, nor could he control them, but he could, for a few moments at least, embrace them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of _The Heat Death of the Universe_! When Seiichi was first introduced, I was genuinely confused as to whether or not he was just a member of the robotics club or an actual robot. He seems to be just the former, but for the sake of this fic, he's the latter haha. Please suspend your belief a little bit and don't ask questions like _how did the robotics club afford to build a robot like Seiichi in the first place_ because trust me, I tried to answer them and gave up.
> 
> Also, I know I said this was going to be two-parts but... it's three now. _I'm sorry hahaha_.
> 
> 1\. **Seiichi's name** \- A quick search on Shirabe Jisho revealed that one of the potential readings for Seiichi's name is "government" and "number one". Now I'm not 100% sure if that was Skillshot Labs' intention (nor am I an authority on the way Japanese names work) but it fits so I rolled with it.
> 
> 2\. **Tea ceremony robot** \- I just wanted to shout out to my boy Hinata here but tea serving robots are actually really cool and I kind of need one.
> 
> 3\. **Seiichi's gender** \- I wanted to address this in case anyone was offended! Technically Seiichi is agender here, but I wouldn't go as far to say that Touru or myself are misgendering him by referring to him with masculine pronouns. The fact that Touru now refers to him as he/him is meant to be significant as Seiichi is no longer being objectified. This is probably best reflected in Seiichi's inability to process how language rarely adheres to strict rules. Both gender and language are alien concepts to him, rendering the concept of pronouns irrelevant anyway. I sincerely hope no one perceives this as transphobic in any way; I was wary of veering in this direction but it's something that will come up again in the second chapter and I wanted to foreshadow it a little.


End file.
